Going Domestic
by wyldcat
Summary: Wouldn’t the Doctor have tried to dye his hair ginger? Set between TCI and New Earth.


Summary: Wouldn't the Doctor have tried to dye his hair ginger? Set between TCI and New Earth.

Disclaimer: don't own it.

I wrote this in almost one sitting – about three hours in total. I haven't written anything for months, so this may not be all that good. It also may not be original, but I've never read anything like what I wrote, so don't blame me or anything!

I actually have no idea how hair dye works. According to wikipedia, hair dye comes in gel. So this is gel hair dye. And I've only seen the new series so I don't know if the Doctor's ever been in a supermarket or not. I have never seen snow and I have no idea what it's like, nor have I been to a London supermarket, or even London. I wonder if I've forgotten to mention anything... Anyway, hope you like it!

* * *

**Going Domestic**

He couldn't believe it.

Here he was, a Time Lord, something around nine hundred years old and a self-proclaimed genius, going shopping. For a forty year old Jackie Tyler no less! Not to mention that he had already sat down and had Christmas dinner with the Tylers (though that hadn't been a bad experience). If Rose hadn't gone off to see her friends with Mickey following her, he wouldn't be doing this. But really, just when he thought his tenth regeneration couldn't get any more domestic, what does he go and do? _Shopping._ If the Daleks knew what he did during his free time, they'd find themselves a whole new ability – laughter.

He dipped his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out the money bill Jackie had handed him. He turned it over slowly and inspected it – he was always a bit vague about money. On the impulse, he licked it, right over the big fat '10' printed on it. It didn't taste very nice, so he put it back where it belonged. He never used to lick things, he realised.

He stopped to examine his reflection in the shop window. He liked the clothes he picked. He was also a lot thinner. That was always one of the first things that popped into his head every time he saw his reflection. He liked his hair…well actually he was two sides about it. His ninth barely had hair, but now he had _big_ hair. He grinned briefly, running his fingers (also thinner) through it again. But couldn't he have been ginger?

He turned away and carried on walking. The supermarket was just up the road in front of him. He'd never been in one before truth be told, so he was actually…nah. He was a Time Lord, and Time Lords were _always_ confident. Yep.

A gust of warm air hit him full in the face as he entered. He could feel the snow turning to mush on him and his new sneakers getting damp, but that was nothing compared to what he saw.

The supermarket was quite…well, it was a new experience so he reasoned that that was why he was impressed. After a moment of openly staring he walked past the counters and into the first aisle while mentally going through the shopping list Jackie had rattled off to him. And really, finding the items wasn't all that bad either. They had helpful little signs hanging from the ceiling everywhere, and smaller ones sticking out of the top of shelves further indicating where everything was.

He was quite proud to say that he found the six items (and a handy basket to carry them all) Jackie wanted in just under fifteen minutes, and he was about to march off to the counters at the front of the store when something caught his eye. He looked, and looked again. A faint cry of wonder escaped his lips as he dropped down to be eye-level with the shelf which was crammed to the brim with hair dye products.

_Hair dye products._

He felt giddy with delight as he found a bottle for red hair dye, and he couldn't stop the wide grin spreading across his face, nor the feeling that tingled all the way down to his toes. "I'm gonna be ginger!" he crowed to the empty aisle. He leapt to his feet, one hand holding the basket and the other holding his precious bottle of hair dye and made a beeline for the counter.

Of course, with anything he did there was always trouble to follow.

The girl behind the counter cleared her throat after a second of silence. "This is only ten quid," she said slowly.

The Doctor looked from the money to the screen, and back to the money. "Ah," he said, finally getting it. "Okay…get rid of that one then." He pointed to the toilet paper which just happened to be in his line of sight. The screen now read eleven quid. "And uh…that one too." He didn't think Jackie would be needing the oil anytime soon either. She didn't have a TARDIS to look after.

Soon after he was on his way, walking as quickly as he could through the snow. How he wanted to skip all the way back instead.

He bounded up the last few flights of stairs and let himself in with his trusty sonic screwdriver. The door clicked shut quietly behind him and he stopped and listened. He could hear Jackie laughing over the phone in the kitchen and no sound of Rose or Mickey, so they were still out. With a grin, he abandoned the bag of shopping by the door and sprung into action.

* * *

"Doctor? Is everything alright in there?" Rose hammered on the door, starting to worry as the Doctor had yet to explain why he had locked himself in the bathroom. What if he hadn't completely recovered from his regeneration yet and was trying to keep it quiet for her sake? He'd done similar things like that before and she knew he would do it again. Behind her she could hear her mother cursing the Doctor all the way to hell and back. Something about shopping. Her long tirade finally stopped when the phone rang again. The door she was currently leaning against suddenly fell away and the Doctor beckoned her in.

Once inside, Rose took one look at the mess on the table and asked in disbelief, "What've you been doing in here?"

The Doctor locked the door securely and turned to face her apprehensively. "I'm going to get slapped aren't I?"

"By mum?" Rose paused, listening to Jackie put down the phone and fire up again. "Probably," she conceded. "She was especially angry with the lack of oil."

"Why?" he asked, puzzled.

"Cooking oil," Rose clarified.

"So?" Then his eyes widened with realisation. "Oh…" He gulped audibly. "Right."

Rose looked at him properly for the first time and suddenly registered what she was seeing. "Oh my God, what have you done to your hair?" Her eyes flicked back to the table and zeroed in on the bottle.

"I followed the instructions to the letter!" he said quickly. He turned to look at Rose, who was now laughing uncontrollably at his hair. "What's so funny?" But Rose just shook her head, unable to speak and he laughed along with her uncertainly. Then he registered what Rose saw when she walked in and self-consciously scratched the back of his head. "I made a mess didn't I?" He looked crestfallen for a moment. "I'll clean it up."

"No it's fine, I'll do it," Rose said between dying giggles but he ignored her, shoving everything into the small bin under the sink. Before he could throw the almost empty bottle out, she had picked it up and held it out of his reach. "Why didn't it work?" she wondered aloud, fully sober again. "This is top of the range."

"Time Lord physiology," was all he said.

Rose frowned. "Don't any other planets have hair dye?"

"Interestingly enough, no. Well, there are a few other species that make it, but not as good. I had hoped…" he trailed off and ran his fingers through his hair.

"You really wanted to be ginger, didn't you?" Rose said softly.

He nodded. "Yeah… Maybe next time."

Rose had nothing to say to that. She watched him as he raked his fingers hard through his hair and pulled out clumps of sticky gel. "Here, I'll help," Rose said.

"Thanks," he smiled at her in the mirror. "Just don't get rid of it too fast."

"Why not?"

He merely nodded towards the door. Rose bit back a laugh and slowed down.

* * *

A few days later, the Doctor was sprawled on the sofa, flicking through the many magazines that resided in the Tyler household. Rose had gone somewhere, and Jackie was cooking something. All was peaceful, until…

"Doctor! Come here!"

He jumped and scrambled to his feet. "Yes?" he asked, feeling for all the world like a naughty boy…which, considering what had happened recently, was probably true.

"Mind the cake, will you? Take it out of the oven in thirty-five minutes. I need to go and buy the cooking oil that you _forgot_ to buy." And with that she strode out of the kitchen and out the front door, leaving the Doctor very alone and _very_ confused.

"Domestics," he muttered, successfully locating the cake in the oven. 'Mind the cake'? As in, watch the cake? When did he get so incompetent at these sorts of things? He was pretty sure he had baked a cake at least once in his lifetime. But in any case, he settled himself in front of the oven to watch.

This was quite easy.

At five minutes, he scooted back from the intense heat radiating from the oven.

At ten minutes, he found that the heat was really getting to him and had shed his suit jacket.

At fifteen minutes, he began to get bored so to entertain himself he recited out loud the complete history of thermodynamics and laughed to himself about the UV catastrophe that humans were so obsessed with at the start of the twentieth century.

At thirty minutes, the front door opened and he stood up, immensely relieved that Jackie was back so he didn't have to baby-sit that cake anymore. But to his surprise, it was Rose instead.

"Did you bake that cake?" Rose asked, sniffing the air.

"Oh no, no, of course not. I was just minding it." He beamed, then stopped as he noticed something. "What have you got behind your back?"

"Late Christmas present," she said, smiling nervously.

"What is it?"

Rose handed it to him and he peeled off the wrapping paper. "It's from all of us." She gave a relieved smile as the Doctor's expression morphed into euphoric and he pulled her into a tight hug. "It's fantastic," he breathed. "Thank you."

"Mickey's the computer whiz, thank him." But Rose smiled all the same.

"You came up with the idea though." He gazed at the elegantly framed photo. It was the one they had taken on Christmas Day, but with one very important difference.

He was ginger, and he hugged his Rose again.

Just then the front door opened once more and Jackie entered. "Ah, I see you've given it to him," she observed before her attention turned towards the kitchen. "What's that burning smell?"

"What?" Panic started to creep in and he looked up at the clock quickly. "But it isn't even thirty-five minutes yet!"

"I said _twenty_-five minutes!" Jackie snapped, flipping the switch off and opening the oven to fan the smoke out.

"You said _thirty_-five!"

"I said twenty-five and that's that! Honestly, _you_ tell him Rose. Leave him alone for half an hour and he burns the kitchen down! No, shoo! Don't try to help, you'll make things worse. Look, why would I tell you to mind the cake if I was going to be back _before_ it was done?" She jabbed a finger in his chest. "You are incapable of doing anything right!"

"Anything ordinary, you mean," Rose said, trying to keep the smile off her face.

"I don't do domestic, remember?" He grinned at her, pointing at his ginger hair in the photo and Rose broke out into peals of laughter.

* * *

Time Lords have glossy hair. BIG glossy hair. :D

Please review! And Merry Xmas!


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